Origin Of Red
by Daswegian
Summary: A story of how the Red Team came to be, and how they came to overthrow the evil that lurks behind the loudspeakers. T for mild adult themes.  Remember the three r's! Read, Rate and Review!
1. Chapter 1

Finally... her army was ready. Soon she will deploy this army, they will move out, capturing key area's, stealing important information; after all, that's why they were made. Cloned from the people she believed to be deadliest in the world. Each stationed in certain area's around her many complexes and secret hideouts. Yes, soon the world will be hers, all she had to do was iron out a few "bugs"...

'aww man, I'm runnin' late! Coach is gonna kill me!' a lanky man ran down the stairs in his apartment building, wearing his baseball strip. A plain red t-shirt (just in training for now, but he was believed to have great potential, especially with his speed) and black shorts. He had his lucky aluminium baseball bat in his hand as he dashed through the street. He dashed through the empty park, the sun only just starting to rise. He looked at his watch.

'dude this is not good enough! I'm no-' he was cut short. He caught a glimpse in his peripheral vision of something red appearing out of nowhere, before tripping up, rolling along the ground before face planting a tree. He caught a whiff of cigarette smoke, before passing out.

He woke up... how much later? He couldn't tell, he was left in a dimly lit room, staring at a pair of speakers.

'Welcome, I trust you enjoyed your little... nap?' The woman's voice was raspy through the speakers, clearly the years of smoking had taken their toll on her throat. 'I require your assistance. I own a group of mercenaries, but they are growing restless in certain area's. I need you to take them out."

The boy was incredulous. 'What the hell are you on about lady? I ain't no killer! The biggest thing I've killed has been moths!'

'That's no problem boy, I have had certain... people watch you. They say you're the fastest baseball player for a long time, able to take two bases even with a weak bat.' she chuckled to herself. 'Your ability to steal bases will be very useful for me.'

He simply sat. Bound to the chair, there wasn't much he could do. He couldn't go against trained mercenaries though, he was only good with a bat. He might be fast, but he wasn't faster than a bullet.

She grew impatient. 'If you don't decide now, then I will simply kill you.' A gun was pressed against the back of his head. He tensed up; he was from Brooklyn, but his area wasn't bad when it came to violence. Reluctantly, he only found one way out of this. He accepted.

'Good... My associate here will take you to your new base and home. I'm sure you will enjoy it. Also, tell no one your real name. This will compromise the mission. Your codename will be... The Scout.' The scout nodded, before getting knocked out again, this time with chloroform. When he woke up, he was in a large comfortable bed. At least she takes good care of her hostages... He looked outside; it was night.

'Damn... coach is really gonna kill me...'

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Texas. America. Oh eight hundred hours. A lone lieutenant was crawling along along the dusty ground. He wore a red jacket to camouflage himself to his surroundings, though his black helmet and trousers didn't help at all. Nor did the large rocket launcher attacked to his back. He stopped as his target came into view; an old tank, Russian, and long ago decommissioned and de-armed; it was time to take out the now long out-dated machine. He looked to his left, there was a high cliff. He wouldn't be able to reach the top for a better shot... unless...

He stood by it. He inhaled. He loaded a rocket into the launcher. He pointed it to the ground and...

He jumped and fired, the blast from the rocket shooting him up the cliff side. He landed on it and rolled over. 'My god... I shouldn't ah made that...' he groaned. He may have lived, but he was still in pain. He remembered his mission. It was a training mission, to teach him to be more conservative with rockets, but it was obvious the plan was to shoot as much as he could until it blew up. He aimed and fired another rocket, and another and another. The third hit the target, causing the tank to explode into hundreds of metal shards. The soldier went to walk off, when his radio became static

'ugh damn think keeps breakin'' he smashed it against a rock until it stopped. Then, a somehow familiar voice came through the walkie talkie. 'Long time no talk Lieutenant. I do hope you're not busy; I need your help. Some of them are growing... restless. I need you to dispose of them.' And with that, he knew that he had no choice. Within moments, he was drugged and taken away.

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The woman smiled, chatting with the tourist as she cleaned her café. The Frenchman had come in every week for the past week. His English was perfect, though his accent was thick. And tonight was the night. As soon as she was off, she would invite him to her place for a coffee. Her son had left a note saying that he would be touring America with his team, so she would be home alone. And that they did. As they walked, holding hands down the dark Brooklyn streets, she rested her head on the taller man's shoulder.

'Je t'aime, mon petite chou fleur...' she blushed, squeezing his hand. They became more rushed as they reached the apartment building, the adrenalin pumping through them. They barely got through the door before they where all over each other, their kissing passionate, their clothes practically dropping off. She was not experienced, but he made her feel like a queen, his own experiences causing her to have her first, orgasm. After the passionate love making, they simply lay, cuddling.

'Je t'aime, mon petite chou fleur...' he kissed her, his eye's welling up. He had stayed after his capture, after finding this beautiful woman. He hadn't expected to fall in love, not so fast, and not now. Oh god not now.

'Are... are you ok?' She asked, his tears now pouring down his face. He couldn't tell her. But he couldn't break her heart.

'I... I can't stay... I am off to fight... not in a war...' She couldn't speak. Her mouth was wide open. She couldn't believe what she was hearing at all. But then and there, she made her mind up.

'I am coming with you! There is no way I can let you leave! Not like this!' The man smirked. He could tell the woman was filled with fiery passion from the moment he met her. He could tell simply by the way she wiped the tables at the café; after all, it was practically his job to watch people's body language. He needed to to survive.

'Very well, I shall try to sneak you through with me, but this will be dangerous. Promise me you will stay as far from combat as possible.' He said, staring into her eyes

She nodded, and in each others arms, they closed their eyes. Before he drifted off, he whispered;

'Je t'aime, mon petite chou fleur'


	2. Chapter 2

The Russian soldier ran as best he could, stopping at every bit of cover he could find and turning back, firing his large machine gun. One of his smaller comrades turned to him as he caused their entry to cave in

"Sir! Why do you keep destroying things?" He cried over the loud fire.

"There is a saying I learned from my sergeant! More rubble, less trouble!" He kept firing until the way was completely blocked.

"Now, do you know who is following us?"

"Why yes..." The soldier turned, confused by his privates sudden change in accent. He stared in shock, his entire squad was dead. Only a tall French man stood in front of him. "I require your assistance. You may help me, or I may kill you."

"I'd like to see you try little man!" The large beast of a man started shooting once more, hundreds of bullets firing from the massive gun. After a few seconds the firing stopped. He grinned.

"You missed" The grin disappeared as fast as it came, as a rag covered his face. He collapsed to the ground.

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"So, ye came?" The Scotsman's apathetic face didn't change as he took a large swig of the rum delivered to him. "Ye ken I've been oot ae the business fer a while"

"So, my friend, you are still the best, and you know that. She wouldn't be searching for you if you weren't."

"That's why ahm here. Tae stay away fae it all." He stood up, one eye glaring at the well dressed Frenchman "I think it's time you left."

The Frenchman lowered his head, walking toward the Scot.

"I am so sorry my friend..."

There was a smash, the rum spreading across the floor as the Scot was taken away.

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BEEP.

"Dangit! Why won't she damn recognise anythin'?" The American looked back at his schematics, his program notes, blueprints. Everything on his desk to do with this project he studied, eyes looking for the problem.

BEEP.

The machine droned on in the background, pivoting left and right.

BEEP.

Someone stealthily moved through the large workshop. They stood behind the workman. He was taken away, and not a noise was heard.

BEEP.


End file.
